Fourteen
by DarkMidnightStars
Summary: It's Wilbur's first year of high school. Is he nervous? No way! Well, maybe just a little... He's gonna prove that he's not a little kid anymore, but to what extent? This is the year everything changes.


He walked cautiously down the empty hallway, which seemed to go on forever. The only sound he could hear was his soft footsteps and quiet breathing. Turning yet another corner, he wondered if he would ever find what he was looking for. Wait…what was he looking for? Where was he, anyway? Where was everyone else? He gulped as he realized he was totally lost and alone. Or was he? He felt that something was behind him, and he instinctively fled, turning down corridor after corridor. Whatever it was, it kept up, and now the sounds changed to the frantic pounding of his sneakers on the squeaky white tile, and his breath as it was sucked in sharply. A yell escaped him as he lost his balance and went sprawling across the gleaming floor. Wilbur peered up to see a strict-looking woman towering over him.

"DETENTION!" she screeched.

I woke up with a jolt, sweat drenching my body. I rolled over to check the time, and fell to the ground with a painful thud. I groaned, and slowly stood up. 5:43. Great. Still groaning and in pain, I stumbled sleepily into the bathroom and splashed some freezing water onto my face. I stared at the dark circles under his eyes before sighing and heading for the kitchen. I pulled out a box of cereal, and, pouring it into the bowl, I accidentally knocked over the milk with my elbow. Growling to myself, I reached for a mop, but a cold hand gently grabbed my wrist.

"It's ok, little buddy, I'll get it." Carl said, extending his arm to grab the mop.

"Thanks, Carl." I yawned, taking my cereal and sitting at the island.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked as he finished and put away the mop.

"Couldn't sleep." I said, stretching and yawning again.

He smiled sympathetically. "Nervous?"

"No! Why would I be nervous?" I said indignantly.

"Well, I wouldn't know, but I'd imagine starting a new school would be unsettling, especially if it's high school." Carl sat down beside me.

"Not at all! I know everyone from my old school, and I have classes with a lot of my friends and I'm sure I'll make even more friends!" I said confidently.

Carl grinned at me. "I wouldn't doubt it. You better go get dressed."

I grabbed my favorite shirt out of the drawer and quickly pulled my clothes on. Quickly checking my hair in the mirror, I rushed back downstairs.

I started to feel the excited clenches in my stomach as I tried to find my mom. I passed Laszlo's art hallway. Laszlo hovered at the top of the room, studying a blank canvas.

"Hey, Lasz!" I called up to him.

"What's up, coz?" he asked casually, zooming down to my level. "Nervous?"

"Excited." I corrected. "It wasn't that long ago you graduated. What was high school like for you?"

He shrugged indifferently. "Well, it was alright, and I learned a lot, but I was always labeled as that weird artist. But it was cool, because the school would ask me to paint them murals and stuff. I'm sure you'll have a fun time."

"Okay, thanks, Lasz!" I said and he zipped back up to work on his picture. I wasn't sure if our conversation had calmed my nerves or made me more jumpy.

I found my mom doing an early morning practice with her frogs.

"Hey, Mom." I strolled in and leaned on the wall.

"Hey, honey. Nervous about your first day?" she asked, still keeping time with her baton.

"No!" I was getting sick of everyone asking me if I was nervous.

"Ok, sweetie, you better get going, your bus will be here soon." She gave me a peck on the cheek, which I wiped off with mock disgust. I rushed out into the hallway and crashed into my dad, who was carrying a stack of paper and a cup of coffee, which spilled all over me. I gasped as the hot liquid covered my shoulders and arms.

"Oh, sorry, Wilbur!" He snatched the water bottle off my backpack and poured it over me. It cooled me down, but my shirt was soiled. I glared up at my father.

"Sorry, Wilbur. Nervous about-?"he began, but I waved him off, stomping up to my room and changing into another as quickly as possible.

I dashed over to my stop just as the aero-bus pulled up. The bus driver gave me an irritated look as I sat down, which confused me. How could I have done something wrong already? I had just gotten here! I slumped in my seat. My normally exuberant mood gave way to pessimistic thoughts.

Today was not going to be a good day.

The aero-bus pulled up at school and I got off, looking up at the immense building. Some people arrived in bubbles, some by flying car, but everybody seemed to be talking and laughing with someone. I felt very alone.

I jumped as someone grabbed my shoulder. It was just my friend Hunter.

"Hey, man. What's the matter with you? You look like you're gonna hurl!"

I grinned. "Naw, just a little…apprehensive."

He gave me a blank look. "Dude, speak English."

"Worried?" I rephrased.

"About what? Wilbur, this is high school! Four years to have fun and show the world we're not little kids anymore!" Hunter exclaimed as we went through the massive double doors.

I saw what he was getting at, but I knew it was going to be a lot harder than that.

"Ok, well, see you at lunch, I have to find my locker. And by the way, the upgrades your dad made…totally awesome!" He strolled off in the opposite direction.

My locker was upstairs. I typed in my password on the lock and twisted the fingerprint scanner. My dad had invented some really high-tech locks for the lockers. He told me about how when he was a kid, it was either a key or a turning a dial that opened your locker. I could imagine how long that would take.

I put my stuff in my locker, and decided to find my homeroom class. On the way I passed a bunch of my friends that went to Joyce Williams Elementary. (The new one; the one my dad went to was torn down, so he helped with the architecture.)

Overhead, a bell rang, and everyone started swarming to find their class. I was starting to get worried, because the herd of other students began to thin out, and I still hadn't found my class yet. Soon I was the only kid still in the hall. My dream from last night crept back into my mind, and I started to get really panicky. I broke into a jog, my eyes frantically scanning the room numbers. I saw it at the end of the hall, 278. Full out sprinting now, I slipped in just as the bell rang.

The teacher gave me a look. "It was close, buddy." He showed me to a seat. I sat down, breathing heavily. Now I was nervous.

But I still wasn't going to admit it.


End file.
